my impotent friend
where now you hide the good luck of a charm?
all stars now bolts that walk the floors of tin.
it is yesterday tomorrow
all grapes are neatly peeled but glowing still.
in a cupboard with old photgraphs
of hollow ears. open mouths.
a face with a thousand land mines on it's chin.
it is Sunday. it is war!
raw eggs alone with their bayonettes
marching to-and-fro on a protein pill.
today.
today of this and that
like a wise old owl with nappy rash
walking to the grave
with his stilton cheese
and a lovebite on his neck.
head south as told.
it is said that's where the friendly blood shall meet
to die on stage with forgotten lines
while a princess shoots her arrows through a heart.
a beating heart in a flame-grilled silhouette.
it is Sunday. it is raw!
am as cold as death-watch beetle
talking to your grave
with my stilton cheese
and your lovebite on my neck.
-
Author:
Melvin James (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 22nd, 2024 03:44
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15
Offline)
Comments4
I know exactly who this one is for, oh so stunning, flawless imagery and oh my, a very special Sunday trip I suspect most Sundays to taken, soulmates forever. I love every line because you bring every last piece to life but these I love today, probably as I'm a fan of stilton and very rarely find it here unless I go to look for it.
walking to the grave
with his stilton cheese
and a lovebite on his neck.
Even when a love bite is no longer visible sometimes on those very rare occasions it stays forever. 🌹 Happy Sunday my dear Melvin. Truly magnificent poetry my friend. 🌹
most kind Teddy, as always.
and yes, a trip I take every Sunday without fail.
we always have much to talk about.
and working in the world of Dairy, cheese always in abundance here....
and a heart that beats much stronger these days.
for your kind words, your kind comments....Thank You.
❤️
Here the message seems clear in the beginning but fades into the fog of the distance. A meta metaphor in that today seems clear but fades into tomorrow's fog. Yet today is the tomorrow of yesterday and all are one in time. Lovely Melvin
thank you very much Soren.
I appreciate all your kind words.
tho today belongs to someone very special, the fog is slowly lifting.
So much so well done. "a face with a thousand land mines on it's chin" or "a beating heart in a flame-grilled silhouette.", just excellent.
most kind Dan.
thank you for reading and taking the time to comment.
Very well crafted, and enjoyable read.
Nice work Melvin
thank you for yor most kind words Max.
very much appreciated.
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